Voldemorts Quest For a Suitable Nose
by Marauder Madness
Summary: Voldie is not happy, he needs to find a decent nose. But where to get it? Could he get it from...Harry Potter? Albus Dumbledore?...Michael Jackson?...perhaps...please RR
1. Voldemorts Consmetic Dilema

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or setting in this story (JK Rowling does), do not sue me if this story turns out to be really _really _bad.

**Dedication: **hmm…to my computer, keyboard and mouse and of course Random, ridiculous and possibly frightening story.

**Voldemorts Quest For a Suitable Nose**

Voldemort was pissed.

Scratch that.

Voldemort was _very _pissed.

He had finally, after many gruelling years of hardships, dodgy bottles of Fire Whiskey, ugly Death Eaters, a temperamental snake and another infuriatingly desperate, but good, movie - style escape from Potter, Voldemort finally had his body back.

Here the world's greatest sorcerer in the world stood, but something was wrong.

Wormtail (the snivelling little blighter) was standing in the circle of his trembling followers. Voldemort, though thankful that he had his body back was severely annoyed that it had to be his worst most dim and stupid Death Eater to bring him back to the world of the breathing. Damn.

He examined his body; it was ugly, very ugly.

Like a skull, that had been bleached. The long sharp nails on his fingers clutched his wand and his black robes shrouded an even more sun – deprived body.

His eyes were red and were annoying, why they had to be cliché, evil red. They were Gryffindor colours for crying out loud, he was the most well known Slytherin apart from Salazar himself and his eyes had to turn out damn red. Maybe he'll ask to trade eye colours with Potter, _he_ had green eyes.

Yet it wasn't the cliché eye colouring that pissed the Dark Lord off, it wasn't the non – tannable milky white skin, it was the fact that he had no damn nose!

Instead of a nose he had slits for nostrils and when he breathed he sounded far too much like Darth Vader, which was bad because Darth Vader lost, and that sucked. The bad guys always seem to lose. Next thing you know he could be facing Potter and saying 'I am your father' (which he wasn't, thank goodness).

He needed a nose, and fast.

So he stopped thinking about Star Wars and Voldemort faced his followers of his inner circle and said.

"I have a mission for you".

**A/N: **very short, I know. Bear with me so I can bear with myself. THERE WILL BE A NEXT CHAPTER

---Marauder Madness


	2. A Nosy Mission

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter JK Rowling, This story's characters and setting JK Rowling, this random idea me.

**Dedication: **to my friend Thriller (you know who you are).

**A/N: **ignore me.

**Chapter 2: **_A Nosy Mission_.

* * *

"_I have a mission for you"._

"What is the mission My Lord?" asked Lucious Malfoy, bowing.

Voldemort smiled a terrible, ugly, noseless smile that would put the editors of _Vogue _magazine into a long term coma.

"Bring me a Muggle doctor," he said laughing at the stunned looks of his Death Eaters, "Quickly, before I have to _make _you."

The Death Eaters bowed, "Of course, master", then they disaperated in a series of load cracks. Voldemort turned sharply when they had gone; he needed that Muggle doctor to create a new nose for him. He had heard of plastic surgery before and he intended that he got some.

"Why do the heroes _always _have to be handsome little buggers and the evil people _always _have to be ugly, red – eyed mutants!" he asked himself, damn that Potter and his black hair and his green eyes.

Voldemort started to rummage through his black cloak; finally he found what he was looking for. Stored neatly in the pocket next to the Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Edible Dark Marks (which he found rather tasty) and a random corkscrew (only used on special occasions) did he find a small black mirror.

Breathing in a deep breath he looked into his reflection.

And fainted.

He came around about ten minutes later, hearing whispering voices.

"He's fainted, Malfoy" said one voice, which sounded like he hardly believed it.

Another person answered.

"The Dark Lord never faints, you idiot!"

Voldemorts eyes snapped open, realising what had happened he made a hasty cover up. Springing to his feet he roared "STUPEFY!" and brought down all the Death Eaters in one try.

"You are still lacking faith in me, aren't you? Do you think I can be so _stupid _as to render myself helpless on the ground, when I am the greatest sorcerer on this planet?" he said in a cold, smooth, most evil – dictator sounding voice he could muster.

The Death Eaters shivered on bent knees.

"I am disappointed in you," he finished, "very disappointed."

"Please, Master, we have the Muggle doctor you asked for," Said Nott shoving a shivering, white clothed man forward, "He is known, apparently, as one of the best doctors there is."

"Very well, Nott, Malfoy, Bella, Crabbe, Goyle and Avery, get out of my sight this instant!" he shouted, watching as his minions hastily bent down and kissed his hem then disaperated into the night.

The doctor stiffened.

"What do you want me for?" asked the man.

Voldemort laughed, the man cringed at the sound.

"Can you do plastic surgery?" asked Voldemort coolly.

The man looked stricken and possibly offended, "Of course I can, got top marks in that subject!"

"Good" said Voldemort, "I want you to make me a decent nose."

"I – what?" stuttered the man, "I can if you like, but it'll cost some money…"

Voldemort rolled his cliché red eyes, "Whatever, I just want to not look so…evilish."

The man looked up, "I thought you were evil, judging by that black cloak and the fact that we are in a graveyard, also you eyes are _very _cliché re-

"Yes I know my eyes are very cliché evil red! But it's just how it turned out, okay," fumed Voldemort, "Now, how much will that nose cost?"

"Around, one thousand two hundred pounds," said the man, "including taxes."

Voldemort stared; this was going to be costly. Damn.

"Fine, but you better not botch it up!"

**A/N: **the next chapter is coming soon and I must thank you for all those lovely reviews. I will reply to them in the next chapter.

Until next time.

---Marauder Madness


	3. A New Nose can have Problems

**Disclaimer: **not owned be me.

**Dedication: **to my friend Zuchinni, may our random movie we made always remain in our hearts. :)

**A/N: **FORGIVE ME FOR NOT REPLYING TO REVEIWS! PLEASE! SORRY THIS IS SUCH A SHORT CHAPTER!

**Chapter 3: **A New Nose can have Problems

Voldemort felt his face. His nose, his _new _nose, He could breathe, no Darth Vader sound – alike, no stupid glances like, oh - my - god - are - you - a – snake looks from his Death Eaters. He was saved; there was a use for Muggles after all…

"There, good as new!" said the doctor, "no evil, Darth Vader, corny look alike for you!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes. God this Muggle was starting to piss him off. A bit like Potter…

"Well, thankyou, here is your check," said Voldemort handing over a crisp note. The doctor examined it.

"Look, dude I know your like evil and all that jazz but, really, coming up a pathetic name like 'Lord Voldemort' is just so _amateur!" _exclaimed the doctor, "I mean you even signed the check in that name! Do you take me for a fool! The bank is _never _going to cash this piece of rubbish! Give me another check with you _real _name!"

Voldemort was very _very _pissed.

In fact no body had ever said anything like this to him ever before. How dare that damn doctor! He was going to pay!

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled, nothing happened, "what the hell…"

"Ah…your certain…talents…will not work for a few day because the drugs I used will dim them for a while," replied the doctor smugly.

Voldemorts bandaged face contorted in rage, "_What!" _he said.

"Now, enough of that, since you can't seem to kill me with that damn stick will you please give me that darn check, _with a proper name!" _said the Muggle pleasantly.

Voldemort really couldn't be stuffed to do anything else so he signed the check with an evil flourish and handed it to the doctor.

The Muggle examined it dryly.

"Tom Riddle isn't such an evil name, I suggest you keep it though, it sounds much more intimidating than 'Lord Voldemort'" said the doctor.

"LEAVE!" shouted Voldemort spraying spit all over the doctor.

"Say it don't spray it!" yelled he doctor in indignation and walked huffily away into the night, leaving Lord Voldemort to examine his new nose.

Voldemort was thinking hard. No powers, damn it!

He started banging his head against his father's headstone.

"_Damn, damn, damn!" _he said over and over again.

Suddenly an echoed voice startled him out of the forty ninth time he would have banged his head against the headstone, "Look son, I know you killed me, but really, placing your ugly head against my headstone is going a bit too far!"

"What! Who was that!" asked Voldemort.

"Good lord! Look, evil world dominating dictator, you are talking to your dead dad, will you please go by my wish and take your foul head off my headstone!" yelled the voice in frustration.

"What the hell! You can't be my father, he's dead, I killed him!" screamed Voldemort finally wrenching his slightly bruised head off the slab of rock.

"Yes I just _told _you I was dead, dimwit, and I sure as hell know you killed me!" said the voice, "I was just asking politely if you would take your head off my headstone!"

"ARRR," yelled Voldemort, "FINE I took my head off that damn rock, anything else!"

"Yes, there is something else," said the voice calmly, "I hope you lose the war," with that the voice faded after giving Voldie a big raspberry.

Voldemort was angry.

"No wonder there is all the prejudice against Muggles!" said Voldemort, "I'm in some need for some psychological counselling."

**A/N: **sorry I didn't answer to your reviews in this one, I had some stuff on. BUT I STILL WANT REVEIWS! Please! It would make me happy!


	4. Voldemort Loses His NoseAgain

**Disclaimer: **do we really need these? I AM NOT JK Rowling!

**Dedication: **today marks the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on the twin towers, I dedicate this story to the lives lost and the men, women and children who have suffered from those killed in the attack, may they never be forgotten.

I also want to acknowledge the memory of Steve Irwin, and his wife and two children, Bindi and Bob.

**A/N: **WARNING: this chapter may scar you for life and I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST MICHAEL JACKSON! He is a very good singer and I like his songs, this story was created by me and my friend as A JOKE! So no flames…please.

**Chapter four**: Voldemort loses his nose…again

"_No wonder there is all the prejudice against Muggles!" said Voldemort, "I'm in some need for some psychological counselling."_

Voldemort stood menacingly over his snivelling Death Munches, "I want you to bring me Harry Potter," he said in his most cold high voice he could muster.

"Of course master, how do you propose we do that?" asked the insufferably annoying Death Eater Nott.

"Just bring him to me god damn it!"

"Yes, as you wish My Lord," exclaimed Crabbe displaying an unusual amount of brains he dragged Nott away.

Voldemort sighed, he would kill Potter, if not with his wand, he would do it with his own bare hands!

Walking around the deserted and rather depressing graveyard (skilfully avoiding Tom Riddle Seniors headstone) he came to a halt. He looked into the distance, though he had to move the bandages away from his face before he could see over them properly.

Nagini slithered around his feet, when she looked up at her master she promptly fainted at his ugliness. Voldemort was pissed now.

"Stupid snake, I never should have put my last bit of soul in you," he said picking her up and chucking her over a newly formed cliff that was just formed in the time it took you to read this sentence, "pathetic creature."

Nagini went hissing and spitting over the cliff.

Suddenly realisation dawned on Voldemort, "Oh my god. I just threw one seventh of my soul over a cliff!" he ran to the edge of the cliff and looked over at the falling snake.

Nagini was still spitting insults back at him, "_why you insolent ugly Dark Overlord!"_

Voldemort answered (in parseltoungue) "give me back my soul!"

"_Never!"_

"Give it back!" yelled Voldemort.

"_No! I will die and take your soul with me!"_

"No you will not!" screamed Voldemort, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The snake zoomed back to him.

"_Damn! I thought you couldn't do magic!"_

"Well I can do _small _spells! I'm not hopeless!"

"_Fine!"_

"Good!"

The snake slithered stroppily back to her burrow.

Must be the PMS thought Voldemort absently.

Suddenly a noise sounded in the distance. The Death Eaters were coming back. Composing himself to look more evilish he faced his minions.

Harry Potter spat at his feet.

"Eww…that was uncalled for Potter!"

Potter rolled his annoyingly green eyes, "it's merely being in your ugly presence that irks me to no end, Tom!"

"Now _that _was uncalled for, I am in no way ugly!" he spat back at Potter, "I have had some improvements, as you might be able to see with your poor eyesight."

Harry made a disgusted face.

"Yeah, I can see an uncanny look alike of Michael Jackson."

Voldemort looked puzzled, "Michael Jackson?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "A Muggle singer."

"Oh," Voldemort said rather stupidly, "so, are you calling me a Muggle?"

"No, I'm calling you a rather not nice looking Muggle," Harry said absentmindedly kicking a random Death Eater in the shins.

"Well, I will not tolerate that nonsense!" Voldemort said, "_Crucio."_

The spell hit Harry, who merely looked at Voldemort in an exasperated way, "You're going to have to do better than that, Tom."

"Don't call me Tom!" said Voldemort, "It is a vial, disgusting name that deserves nothing more than to be rubbed in the dirt!"

"You mean _you _should be rubbed in the dirt?" asked Harry teasingly.

"_No!" _said Voldemort at once,_ "_The _name _should be rubbed in the dirt!"

"Hey! I'm right here you know!" said Tom Riddle senior's headstone.

"Oh, SHUT UP!" screamed Voldemort.

"Jeez, you have anger management problems, son," said the headstone coolly.

"Tell me about it," Harry added.

Voldemort glared at both of them, "I am going to kill you Harry Potter."

"You have told me that far too many times and was never true to your word," said Harry, "I'd rather not be disappointed again."

"Fine! _Avada Kedavra!" _the spell didn't work at all.

"Voldie, I think you're losing your touch!" exclaimed Harry.

"Stupid Muggle medicine!"

Voldemort thought hard. No magic. No killing curse. No death. Damn. He really wanted to destroy Potter once and for all today, but _no _the curse won't work!

"Now, if you don't mind I will be leaving now," Harry said calmly.

"No you won't be!" retorted Voldemort grabbing the boy back to him.

"You can't kill me Tom!" said Harry, "so why keep me here?"

"Because I want to kill you soon and I am not going to any more trouble to get you!"

Harry's eyes narrowed as small as the gap between doors and the floor, "then I'll just have to get out by myself!"

Harry struggled in Voldemorts grasp, in the end punching him in the face. Voldemorts nose popped off and rolled across the floor.

The both looked at it.

"How DARE you knock off my nose!" said Voldemort.

"Oh, get over it Voldemort!" said Harry ripping himself out of the ugly man's grip and straitening his robes out.

"I will _not! _That was over two thousand pounds of…of…PLASTIC!"

"Well, you got ripped off then," retorted Harry.

Harry was slowly inching away while Voldemort tried to force his nose back on his face. Finally Harry escaped into the night, leaving Voldemort to his nose – forcing.

Voldemort was so pissed.

He had noticed Potter had escaped but at that moment he had a hand on his nose, the other holding his wand trying to spellotape it back on his face.

All his Death Eaters had left him with Potter so he was quite alone, thank goodness.

_Okay, just glue this bit here – and – that bit there – spellotape the top – vualla, it's on!_

Voldemort smiled, yet another mind boggling, eye fizzling out smile that not even the toughest man alive could survive after looking at it.

"What do you think Nagini?" hissed Voldemort,

"_It looks horrible!" _Nagini spitted back,

"Do not insult me!" snapped Voldemort,

"_I just did, stupid!" _she answered,

"Don't call me stupid!" snarled Voldmeort,

"_I just did, stupid!" _laughed Nagini,

"Well then don't call me stupid again!"

"_Fine then, Tom!"_

"Aurrgg! I give up!" exclaimed Voldemort.

The Death Eaters then came to him, bending down on their knees.

"My Lord," started Crabbe.

"- go away!" said Voldemort,

"-but,"

"-I said _go away!" _Voldemort repeated.

"-of course My Lord," finished the Death Eater, scampering off after the other Death Eaters who had enough brains to leave when their master said to leave.

"_Well that was random," _said Nagini,

"I am annoyed!"

"_I can tell!"_

"Oh, shut up Nagini," said Voldemort huffily.

"_Don't you start throwing hissy fits at me!" _

Just then Voldemort touched his nose. It fell off.

"Damn!"

"_You suck Voldemort!"_

Voldemort was too pissed at that moment to take any notice of his snake, which turned out to be a very bad idea. Not taking any notice of Nagini made it possible for her to slither over to the nose that Voldemort was currently looking for (with a lot of cursing) and eat it.

"_Yum! Plastic nose!"_

"WHAT!" screamed Voldemort, "DID YOU JUST _EAT _MY NOSE!"

"_Yes!" _said Nagini, "_it was yummy!" _

"Nothing is going right!" screamed Voldemort in enormous frustration, "Who ever are up in heaven, kill me now!"

"I would gladly do that if I had a body," said Tom Senior's headstone.

"It was hypothetical."

"_That wouldn't be right, hypothetical means 'based on hypothesis' your best words you could use would be, 'I was kidding'," _said Nagini in a very Hermione-ish tone of voice.

"WHATEVER, DICTIONARY NERD!" screamed Voldemort.

"_Fine!" _retorted Nagini.

"Now, the only other person apparently in the world that looks like me is a guy called Michael Jackson…if I could steal his nose…" said Voldemort.

Calling up his followers Voldemort put on his façade of ultimate evil and faced his minions.

"I have a mission for you."

**A/N: **thanks everyone for those wonderful reviews from the last chappie! Please no flames on the Michael Jackson thing in this story…I apologise if you are a big fan of him.

Your sore handed writer

---Marauder Madness


	5. Problems

**Disclaimer: **The characters are not owned by me.

**Dedication: **Dedicated to Kiwi because I think she needs some cheering up, so bring on some comic relief!

**A/N: **Please do not flame me for this random and completely pointless plot and story, if you hate it please keep it to yourself.

Chapter 5: **_Problems_**

_I have a mission for you."_

"So _your _Michael Jackson," said Voldemort circling his prisoner, "I was told by some people that you look almost _exactly _like me!"

Michael looked up, "Err…I look nothing like you,"

"Yes you do!" Voldemort snapped back, "and that's why you are here!"

The Death Eaters looked on confusedly, because really, they are all very stupid and wouldn't know the difference between a fuzzy white kitten and a scaly, green, blood sucking crocodile.

"I don't think so," said Michael, looking intently into the bright red eyes of the Dark Lord, "you see, I have a nose"

Voldemort rolled his eyes, "That's why you're here! So I can steal your nose!"

"Ah ha! I knew you were up to no good!" said Michael, "you look mightily like an evil, power hungry dark lord dictator!"

Voldemort howled in anger and pulled on the ends of his clock hood in frustration (since he didn't have any hair) and pointed his wand at the Muggle.

"Don't say that to me even if you _are _right!" he screamed, "Yes, I may be an evil, power hungry dark lord dictator but…but…arugh! Forget it! Just give me the damn nose!"

Michael raised his eyebrows, "I just can't give you my nose! I can't just _rip _it off!"

Voldemort advanced to the stubborn pop singer, "then I'll just get it myself! Fellow minions leave us now!" the death eaters quickly went away.

_---zooming out of the building and into the view of a random death eater (currently looking at the door)---_

What the Death Eaters could hear now was a series of yelps and smooshed up voices mingled together.

"I _told _you! You can not just tear my damn nose off!"

"Oh yeah! Lord Voldemort can do anything! You here that, ANYTHING!"

The sound of a lot of scuffling and a few short screams in quick succession echoed into the entry hall that the Death Eaters were currently eavesdropping in. They took wide eyed glances at each other.

Suddenly Voldemorts high pitched, girly sounding voice echoed through to the eavesdropping Death Munches, "DEATH EATERS WHO ARE LISTENING AT THE DOOR, _GO AWAY, _OR I WILL _KILL YOU!" _

The Death Eaters quickly ran away from the door all they could here was a series of 'ooh, aaah,' and "_stop grabbing it!" _

Very suddenly Voldemort burst through the double doors, his face flushed red, Michael followed looking very much as red-cheeked.

One look at his followers and Voldemort instantly answered their questions in one answer, "It's not what it look likes!"

The Death Crunches looked on guiltily and then started whistling, trying to appear innocent.

"Now, Mr Jackson, I have just discovered that my source of information about the, ah…nose was wrong," said Voldiepants quickly, wringing his long spider fingers, "your nose is actually um…real."

Michael rolled his eyes, "I _tried _telling you that but _no, _the evil, stubborn, dark overlord _never _believed me and there for listened to no sense!"

The Death Eaters were sniggering silently.

"Now that you have decided to stop," said Michael in a very business like fashion, "I am going to sue you for assault, and I don't _care _if you are an incredibly powerful dark wizard!"

Voldemort could only gape (unfashionably) at the Muggle pop singer in disbelief; _the guy was gonna SUE him! _

Suddenly Nagini slithered up to him and hissed, "_Never mess with a man smarter than yourself, I did warn you…Tommy." _

Voldemort got so angry that he had to grasp a cheap plastic elephant figurine in his robe pocket to stop him lashing out at his snake/one seventh of soul, unfortunately (for Voldie) the cheap figurine snapped.

"_I am smarter than…than that Muggle!!" _he yelled in Parseltoungue at his snake.

Nagini answered, _"Well then how come he is currently pulverising your Death Eaters without using any magic at all!" _

Voldemort swung around, and to his horror he found Michael doing all kinds of complicated looking martial arts moves and completely destroying his _talented _minions in combat.

Without magic.

That was the last straw for Voldemort. Breathing steam he threw a stunning curse at the annoying Muggle but the guy just simply did a double back flip out of the way and ran out the window (which had been conveniently left open).

Voldemort let out an exasperated scream (as all fictional dark lords do when they lose) and started attempting to pound the stone wall using his fists, throwing a massive Lord Voldemort style tantrum (as _my _fictional dark lords do when they lose).

--

Meanwhile Michael had called up Judge Judy and organised a trial to be held against Lord Voldemort the next day at exactly three o'clock. He couldn't wait, he though while rubbed his hands together in suppressed glee.

**A/N: **I really hope you survived through this story, seeing as I could barely survive writing it, I know it's horribly weird! ducks for cover :)


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